Racial Traits:Furious Assault: You can use furious assault as an encounter power.Half-Orc Resilience: Gain 5 temporary hitpoints (10 at 11th, 15 at 21st) the first time you are bloodied in an encounterSwift Charge: +2 to speed when charging

Deft Hurler:
You can forgo dealing damage to the adjacent enemy to instead make a ranged basic attack with a heavy thrown weapon against one creature other than the target of your cleave. This ranged basic attack does not provoke opportunity attacks.

Footwork Lure

Fighter Attack 1

You press the attack, engaging your enemy before falling back
and drawing him after you.

At-Will ♦ Martial, WeaponStandard Action ♦ Melee Weapon

Target:
One creature.

Attack:
Strength vs. AC (+9 vs AC)

Hit:
1[W] + Strength modifier damage. You can shift 1
square and slide the target into the space you left.

:
Increase damage to 2[W] + Strength modifier at 21st level.

Object Projection

Wild Talent Cantrip

Your force of will teleports an object a short distance away

At-Will ♦ Psionic, TeleportationMinor Action ♦ Melee Weapon

Effect:
You teleport an object you are holding in one hand to an unoccupied square within 10 squares of you or to a willing creature within 10 squares of you.

Effect:
You can shift 1 square and repeat the attack against a
second target. You can then shift 1 square and repeat the
attack against a third target.

Bio:

Height: 6’2”

Weight: 220 lbs.

Age: 27

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Brown

Skin: Grayish Green

The roar of the crowd was deafening, the heat of the sun unbearable. Sweat dripped off of his body as he circled his opponent. His opponent was done, the human had put up a good fight, but it was over. He knew it, his opponent knew it, but most importantly the crowd knew it. They smelled blood and it whipped them into a frenzy. The only way to quench their thirst would be the death of one of the contestants.

Blurred moments pass by, filled with feints and lunges, a contest more of skill than of brute force. It ends with Vrack straddled atop his opponent, the human weakling trying to break free. Weapons eschewed earlier in preference of a more personal approach, he beat his opponent senseless with his bare hands. Looking up, he could see the crowd wanted more, lusted for death. He is not one to disappoint. Grabbing a stone from the arena floor, he made quick work of his victims head.

The deafening cheers of the crowd faded to muffled thunder as Vrack was hauled back to his cage. Always back to the dark cage. His dwarven master smirks as his lackeys shove his prized slave behind the bars. He hates the cage that is his home. He does not recall the days before the cage, it has been too many years. There are images of sun and sand, but that is all. He has been in the cage since he was a youngling.

His guards have grown careless over the years, he lets them know this when he breaks one of their wrists as they are shoving him into his prison. The other guard tries to stop him, but is slow. Vrack is a beast who has finally escaped his prison, the other guard goes down in a crumpled heap of broken bones.

His attention turns to the dwarf. He can see fear in his eyes, the smirk is long gone. The day of reckoning has come, they both can sense it. The dwarf’s end is not quick, it is a revenge born of years of slavery. The dwarf screams, no one hears. The walls are too thick, the crowd outside too loud.

He walks away from the arena, he is a free man. Those who dispute this will meet their ends. He leaves the city, there are too many here who remember him from the arena. A new city is what he needs, somewhere to ply his trade, this time for profit instead of as a slave.